306 IN THE GRIP OF THE NYIKA CHAP. 



At seven we pushed on again across the sandy 

 wilderness, under the guidance of Papai. After a 

 while the moon came out and shed a weird light on 

 our dismal and silent surroundings. Nothing was 

 in view save the long line of men, horses, camels, 

 mules, and donkeys the rear part stretching away 

 out of sight, hidden by the lava dust which lay here 

 soft and thick under foot. 



Now and again the line w r ould get broken, and 

 the rear would lose touch with the front of the 

 caravan. Then there would be a halt and cries of 

 "Upesi, upesi, simba wabaya hcipa" ("Hurry up, 

 hurry up, the lions are bad here"), the warning cry 

 of the askaris being made more realistic as the roar 

 of one of these monarchs of the wilds resounded across 

 the desert. 



Occasionally we heard the crash of some pon- 

 derous beast as it lumbered off into the gloom, 

 startled by our sudden and strange appearance in 

 that silent waste. 



In this way we journeyed on until about mid- 

 night, when I called a halt for a few hours' rest. 

 Of course no tents were pitched, as we only intended 

 to make a short stay. I made a bed of rugs for 

 Mrs. B., on which she lay and snatched a couple of 

 hours' uneasy slumber, waking up from time to time 

 with a cry of distress. Meanwhile, I sat on a box 

 close by, with my back against a tree stump, and 



